On Lover Boundries
by Dommieay
Summary: Sometimes, you have to say goodbye. Alot of the times, your heart is broken, and there is nobody to reach out a hand to help.
1. Goodbye

Authors Notes: This is in an Unknown POV, and the two hobbits are Merry and Pippin. :D Alright? I don't know what I was aiming at, but I was listening to one of those sappy love songs as I wrote this.. oh well.  
  
-=-=-=-  
  
The day was warm, even against the will of the wind that disturbed blade of grass, and leaf of tree alike. This chilly element brushed past shrubbery, past delicate flower, and stone cold rock. Breezing past ancient tree of pine, the wind continued its' journey through a dense shadowy forest, where few beans of light could be found. Zigzagging around trees and plants, it came upon an old dusty path, shrubbery overgrown onto it on either side. Dust tendrils flew up and formed as the wind took them up in flight, creating a minor dust storm on the pathway.  
  
Along this path, two creatures walked, looking to be about the height of maybe four feet. Both wore brown homespun cloaks, with their hoods pulled up to shadow their faces. It might have looked odd, seeing the pair, most likely children they were; out in a rickety, barren forest. Nothing looked like it would interest them here. But obviously something caused these seeming young ones to be here. Something had to. At a closer observation of the two, it was clearly obvious that they were holding hands. Some odd peace seemed to be over both of them, holding them in silence. It was a mature silence, so maybe these weren't children after all. Hobbits, perhaps.  
  
Yes, one of the hoods slipped back, revealing the face of a mature looking young hobbit. From beneath the homespun cloak he wore, it seemed that he wore a yellow vest, and a white shirt under that. They continued walking, and eventually, the other hobbit pulled off his own hood, briefly unclasping his hand from the yellow-vested one's hand. A younger face this was, yet still mature. Both looked like they were related in some manner, but wasn't that the same with most hobbits? The older hobbit took the younger ones hand, and they kept their pace. I wonder where they are going.  
  
A clearing comes in sight; I can see it clearly. Old trees were surrounding it, ancient elm, mighty oak, and slender rowan. I could see that is where they were heading now, or at least seeming to be. Their feet made no sound on the dusty ground, and the wind did not seem to bother the cloaked miniature creatures. No, they seemed to be enjoying it, rather enjoying the wind, like it was a refreshing breeze cooling their faces rather then the biting wind it was. I wonder why these two are here, of all places. I mean, shouldn't they be back in their little hobbit type homes, grooming their little furry feet? I suppose these two didn't think of that.  
  
The older one stopped when they were in the clearing, and turned to the smaller. I could see them smiling, though it was more serious smiles then a child would give. I could really not estimate at their age, I find that quite hard to do with hobbits. As I watched, fascinated, they embraced, and shared a slight kiss, which only lasted a few moments. Then they pull away, and I could swear that should smiles were forced. Forced as they were, I could almost feel sadness radiating from them, as they just stood there in silence. The younger one had a tear running down his cheek, but he didn't seem to notice. He was just looking at the other hobbit, as if he would give anything to be closer to him. But, instead, they stretched out their hands, and gave a handshake, which I'm sure they would have liked to do more.  
  
Instead, with some words that were too quiet to hear. Then they turned away from each other, and walked their separate ways. I could still feel the sadness in the now empty clearing, the sadness of two people who were saddened by their separating, though sometimes, just sometimes, things had to be done. I knew it was hard to say goodbye. I just sat there for a long while, watching the clearing where the two hobbits had stood, and had shared their last embrace. Yes, I knew it was hard to say goodbye.  
  
I was to go back to my own lover soon, and I wonder what I'll be thinking when I receive my embrace from him. Will my thoughts be on these two, who had to be separated because of different duties in foreign countries? Or would be thinking of the many other young couples I had seen, heartbroken and weeping? For I had seen so many, and I'm sure if I find one more, I shall surely die of grief, a terrible maelstrom of all the sadness I had witnessed. I shall go home now, but I will remember these two. I had seen something special in their companionable silence, they way they had held hands on their walk to goodbye.  
  
Yes, I knew it was so hard to say goodbye. 


	2. Tears

Authors' Notes: Yes, I seem to have taken to writing in unknown POV's, like my last fic, On Lover Boundries (this is the second part to that particular fic). I don't get too many reviews on this stuff, but the stuff I -do- get are special, re-kindling my heart to write. Thank you all. ___________  
  
About mid-afternoon, it was, as I recall. The sun seemed seven heavens away, and yet still close enough to warm even the smallest blade of grass, coaxing them to enjoy the day. Clouds shifted overhead, their pearly white underbellies gazing down upon Middle-Earth in all its' life. I sigh, and turn my gaze away from this serene spectacle, now watching a young hobbit from afar. I had to watch this one for awhile to realise whom it was. One of the young hobbit's I had encountered through the woods. Yes, that was it. This was the older one, with the yellow vest, and a glint in his eye. He did not move strangely, just sat there, alone, staring at the ground. Then I understood. His young lover was not here, and it must be driving him into depression. I knew it was hard to say goodbye, after all.  
  
When I had gone home to my own lover, those many nights ago, I had not forgotten them, their faces, and tears had been blazed into my mind. Every time I was held by my own lover, I could almost feel their pain burning me up, taking me close to the pain they both must feel. And yet, I could not paint faces upon the ones I had met. I had not forgotten them, not truly, just who they were. If that makes any sense. I slowly rose to my feet, hoping to get closer to this depressed being, without being noticed. This time he did not have his lover to distract him from my continuous following.  
  
As I was mere twenty metres off, he had still not noticed me. I blinked, for I had not realised that I had come so close... and he had not noticed. My eyesight is keen, and I can see the hobbit' face clearly. Red-rimmed were his eyes, from crying, I presume. He was not crying now, most likely because his eyes would not let him. Pale and sickly was his parlour, as if he was getting over being sick for a few weeks. I felt my heart once again weaken. Why was I forced to bear the weight of the cares of young lovers? Too many I had witnessed as it is. Far too many had wilted and died before my eyes, gone somewhere where they believed they could not be hurt anymore. I would not let it happen again.  
  
I crouched in the cover of bush shadows, just watching the sad young hobbit. For some reason, this hobbit and his soul mate seemed so different from the others. So. Special and I knew not why. Was it because. no, that could not be it. They just seemed to capture my heart with all their tender hearted innocence. Like the rest. Just like them. Then why? I will not muse on this, for I need to keep my mind from question the way life weaves. It is a dangerous thing. As I continued to watch, he brought his knees to his chest, and rested his elbows on knees, the hands of which supported his face. He seemed to be crying again, though no noise reached my ears.  
  
Maybe that is why I find him out here, away from his kind. Perhaps he is seen to be strong through this, and does not wish to be seen crying in front of them. Or, perhaps, his kindred had not known of this affair between him and the other hobbit. Perhaps. I would help this one, and find the other. I would have to bring them together, for I could already feel myself dying. Though my own pain could be nothing compared to theirs. For now, I will plan, and then take action.  
  
I wonder, again, if I will feel guilty at all, going home to my own lover, going home to him, and having an embrace only meant for me. Only me. One that will last for all eternity, never to be separated. I wonder if there tears will seep into my heart, flood me out into my own tears, weeping for them. I wonder if I would break, break for them, break for their loss. I wonder.  
  
Because I knew it was hard to say goodbye.  
  
Then, I got up, silently, and left, heading back home. He would not know that I have been here, he is in his own world, his own world where he and his lover still are together, not to be pushed apart again, for their lives.  
  
I knew it was hard to say a simple goodbye. So hard. 


End file.
